


Waiting for Spring

by MajorAccent



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:33:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorAccent/pseuds/MajorAccent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Now you just have to worry that he’ll dick you out of that twenty-two million you were supposed to get out of San Fran.”</p>
<p>“It’s not about the money,” Derek retorts, frowning. “And only people from out of the Bay Area call it that.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andnowforyaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/gifts).



> [Ashley](http://paperkrane.tumblr.com/) said she wanted a baseball AU.  
> So I made it happen for her? Kind of?
> 
> Title comes from a quote by Rogers Hornsby:  
> "People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring."

“Argent’s aiming to trade for you,” Stiles says as soon as they sit down.  
  
They’re in a corner booth of a diner on Webster Avenue in the Bronx, out of Queens and away from Citi Field. The waitress behind the counter barely batted an eye when she waved them back to their table, but Stiles is still wearing a plain blue baseball hat with the brim pulled forward and low, matching Derek’s faded red that he slid backwards once they were inside.  
  
Derek frowns, picking up the menu even though they’ve come in here dozens of times when they’re both in the city. “Why?” He questions. “My contract is still good for three years with the Giants.”  
  
Stiles nods, leaning back and propping his arm on the back of the bench. “And you’re doing good,” he agrees. “ _Which is catching eyes_.”  
  
“They’re going to try and buy me out?” Derek questions, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “I might be a Met?”  
  
“Yup,” Stiles over-enunciates, matching Derek’s volume. A sly and cloying smile spreading across his face, “if Argent has his way, you’re going to be a Met next March.”  
  
Derek knows better than to reach across and take Stiles’ hand—wouldn’t try anywhere outside of a darkened hotel room—so he settles for nudging the toe of his sneaker against Stiles’ ankle under the table.  
  
Stiles’ head ducks, looking like he’s reading the menu to anyone watching, but Derek knows the fold under his lip that means he’s biting it to keep from smiling and the crinkle of his eyes. “Now you just have to worry that he’ll dick you out of that twenty-two million you were supposed to get out of San Fran.”  
  
“It’s not about the money,” Derek retorts, frowning. “And only people from out of the Bay Area call it that.”  
  
“I know it’s not about the money,” Stiles nods, quiet.  
  
The waitress comes up, notepad clenched in her hand. “What can I get you boys to drink?” She asks, a gentle smile on her face.  
  
“I’m fine with the water,” Derek answers, nodding to the plastic glasses still full between them.  
  
Stiles grins up at her, “I’ll have a coke, please.”  
  
She nods and goes with a swish of her skirt. They watch as she goes through the doors to the kitchen, leaving them and the few patrons dotting the counter before they lean forward to talk quietly again.  
  
“Even if it goes through,” Derek begins.  
  
“It’s not like we can live together,” Stiles finishes with a nod. “I know.”  
  
Derek smiles sadly, propping his chin on his open palm. “I never thought I’d wish to be back in college.”  
  
Stiles laughs, head tossed back and loud before he shoves his knuckles into his mouth to muffle the sound. “I don’t miss college; I miss being roommates,” he says, low and full of dark promise. “Where we had two beds, but only had to use one.”  
  
He nods. “At least we’ll be in the same city for than one night,” Derek offers like a consolidation.  
  
“Yeah,” Stiles agrees, but he still sounds somber. “And there’d be a plausible reason for us being seen together.”  
  
“We’re already seen together,” Derek waves off.  
  
“At award shows and benefits,” Stiles rejects. “I mean like—out and about. Just going for a walk, or something.”  
  
“Do you go for walks with your other teammates?” Derek asks, sounding casual even though Stiles knows it’s forced.  
  
“I do with Scott, we see movies together,” Stiles answers with a shrug. “But he’s married to the manager’s daughter.”  
  
Derek scowls, arms crossed even as the waitress comes back and sets Stiles’ soda down. “You decide?” She asks, pen ready as she ignores the tension between them.  
  
“BLT,” Stiles requests after Derek stays quiet for a couple beats.  
  
She scribbles it and turns. “And for you?”  
  
“A cup of clam chowder,” he murmurs.  
  
“It’ll be right out,” she chirps, pouring more water into the glass and walking away.  
  
Derek wipes his face. “We could just come out to the League,” he says, like it’s a new suggestion. “After I get traded.”  
  
“We’d ruin our careers,” Stiles sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
Derek nods, sitting up straighter to look over the diner to make sure no one’s paying attention to them before he slides his hand across the laminate table top, sweeping his thumb against the bone of Stiles’ wrist before he pulls away again. “It’s not about the money,” he repeats.  
  
Stiles smiles minutely, looking at the space he just touched. “You’re right,” he agrees and taps his fingers against his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> And [this](http://foldedpinup.tumblr.com/) is my tumblr if you feel like yelling at me.


End file.
